


Make Me Whole

by DhampirsDrinkEspresso



Series: Monstrous [2]
Category: Dracula & Related Fandoms, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Because Vampirism, Ben and Kylo are Different People, Ben and Kylo are NOT Brothers, Biting, Blood, Character Death, Character Undeath, Dracula AU, Dubious Consent, F/M, Gore, Groping, Hair-pulling, Implied/Referenced Sex, Lawyer Ben Solo, M/M, Menage, Mesmerism, Multi, RFR Songfic Challenge, RFR Songfic Challenge October 2020, Songfic, Threats of Violence, Threesome - F/M/M, Universal Monsters Tribute, Vampire Kylo Ren, Why Choose, breylo - Freeform, governess Rey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26935387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DhampirsDrinkEspresso/pseuds/DhampirsDrinkEspresso
Summary: Ben traveled for work and came back to Rey...changed. The source of that change followed, seeking to claim them both for his own.(AKA: The Breylo Dracula AU I didn't know I needed to write).“Oh, you do like that idea. Has our Benjamin been neglecting you, dear heart?”She shook her head.Of course not.“My husband takes excellent care of me,” she hissed. “I want for nothing.”“Liar,” he said, and then his mouth was on hers, lips and tongue coaxing, demanding a response.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Monstrous [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964857
Comments: 9
Kudos: 39
Collections: RFR Songfic Challenge





	Make Me Whole

**Author's Note:**

> **The breath of life  
>  From my lips he stole  
> The man who swallowed my soul**
> 
> **He stared at me with eyes black as coal  
>  The man who swallowed my soul**
> 
> **The morning air  
>  And the sunlight he stole  
> The man who swallowed my soul  
> He said his kiss would make me whole  
> The man who swallowed my soul  
> ~The Man Who Swallowed My Soul, Persephone **
> 
> For the RFR Songfic challenge October 2020  
> Like the Frankenstein one, there were other songs that impacted this, but the primary inspiration and title source is [The Man Who Swallowed My Soul](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQUyLNQThNI).

He came back to her changed, diminished somehow.

It wasn’t the illness, the starvation and fever dreams. Yes, that all left him physically sunken, hollowed, but that he could recover. Far more troubling was the fact that his spark was gone, that bright, fiery life that had drawn her to this Benjamin C. Solo, Esquire, the thing that had made her seek to rise above her station as a simple governess and (later) chaperone and companion to the only child of the wealthy Connix family.

There was a wildness to him, this disinherited son of diminished nobility, a drive—desperation, really—to prove…something, and it had resonated with a similar something deep in her soul. He had defied tradition—bucked the expectations of society—in relentless pursuit of her hand. For her part, Rey had led him on a merry chase, returning his affections and yet initially denying him at every turn.

Then he traveled to Hungary, one final task for the firm at which he had found employment, one final separation before they would be wed, and he could be established in his own right, and then… _then_ she would never be alone again.

She sighed and gazed at his sleeping face, tight and drawn as some dark nightmare chased his dreams. He always claimed he remembered nothing, but the lie was there in his eyes. He remembered, but he didn’t want to burden her.

Rey was thankful she had taken the advice of the sisters of the religious order who found him, summoned her to his side; thankful they had been wed while he was still relieved to be alive, before the guilt and doubt that dogged his steps had settled in, taken him over wholly.

He said it, more than once, expressed regret that he had tied her to him unto death, even ventured so far as to muse whether the dissolution of their marriage would be somehow less ruinous to her. He loved her, she had no doubt, but that love had been soiled, tinged with sorrow and desperation.

She knew it had something to do with Hungary, with the nobleman for whom Ben had spent long hours drawing up the deeds and contracts; just as she knew too that he sought to blame himself for the illness that weakened sweet Kaydel, her dear friend—once her charge and pupil—before stealing her away.

It was no help that his uncle Lucas, Duke Skywalker, remained ever intent on feeding his delusion that the two were somehow the same, that the mysterious Count Ren was some sort of immortal monster, a demon who fed on the blood and souls of innocence and followed Ben home.

Rey shook her head and dimmed the lamp. She should sleep. She could fret more over Luke and his harmful delusions in the morning. Doubtless Ben’s nightmares would wake them both in a fit of screaming soon enough. She settled into the bed in the darkness, curled protectively around her husband, and prayed for only pleasant dreams for the both of them as she closed her eyes.

_It was a dream. Some part of her knew it, accepted the fact, and yet it felt so real._

_Kaydel was sleepwalking again. She must be, to have gone out so late. Rey grabbed a wrap for herself, another for Kaydel, and hurried to the open French doors that led out to the terrace._

_She could hear…music._

_There, in the garden. Humming, Kaydel was humming. It was a familiar tune, a forgotten lullaby, perhaps. She hurried over, draping Kaydel’s wrap carefully around her shoulders, trying not to startle her awake. That never went well._

_Kaydel turned, eyes open and fixed, glowing a hellish red._

_“Kind of you to join us, Rey,” she said. Something was wrong with her voice. Kaydel didn’t sound like that._

_A shadow loomed over them, long fingers coming to rest on Kaydel’s shoulders._

_“Ben? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Hungary for another week.”_

_He just stared, eyes burning over Kaydel’s head while Kaydel laughed at her. “Silly goose! Not your Bennie!”_

_He laughed too, leaning down and pressing his lips to Kaydel’s neck as she gasped. His arms banded around her and she began to struggle. Rey watched, frozen in helpless horror, as blood ran down her friend’s neck, soaking into the fine lace embroidery on her nightgown._

_Ben lifted his head and released Kaydel from his hold. The blonde woman slumped lifeless to the ground as he carelessly stepped over her._

_Not Ben._

_No, not Ben._

_He stared at her, eyes burning like coals, unspeaking and yet she heard it clearly: “Come to me. Wake and come to me Audreyana. I am waiting for you.”_

Rey woke with a gasp, one hand at the base of her throat. Ben slept silently beside her, unmoving in the stifling stillness of the night.

The window, she should open the window, let in some air.

She was halfway there before she remembered it was November, realized it was actually cold in the room and not stuffy at all. She crept quickly back into the bed, huddling down under the mound of quilts and wishing she had paused long enough to put a log on the fire, down to only glowing embers.

“I can warm you.”

She barely held back a scream at the voice, deep and rich and _almost_ familiar. Like Ben’s voice, and yet not.

Fog and mist swirled in through the open window—

_How? How was the window open? She didn’t. She stopped._

“Did you?” Movement, in the corner, between the window and the fireplace. “Oh, you did.” Another step, coming closer through the fog. “And yet, here I am.”

_Demon._

_Devil._

_Monster._

“I am,” he said calmly, taking one more step and stopping beside the bed. He looked…very much like her Ben, and yet not. She noted the subtle differences. His hair was longer, slightly unkempt and more appropriate for the style of bygone eras. His face, too, was different, jaw the slightest bit longer, mouth just a tiny bit fuller. She would have to see them side by side, but she suspected Ben was taller—though not by much. This—creature—was broader though, even more so than Ben in his prime—before Hungary. He appeared slightly younger, no silver in his hair (though the streaks of grey shot through her husband’s locks were likely more due to shock and illness than age—he was barely thirty five and had been in otherwise good health).

He leaned forward, lifted one knee and knelt on the bed, the mattress dipping with his weight.

She should wake Ben, scream for help, find a weapon.

Clearly Uncle Lucas was correct. This was the _thing_ responsible for so much pain. Ben. _Kaydel._

Who knew how many others?

And yet she wasn’t moving, didn’t make a sound as she stared at him, trapped in his gaze.

“You could call out,” he said, pulling the other leg onto the bed, leaning forward and supporting his weight on his hands. His torso was long enough he loomed over her—over _them_ —where she huddled protectively in front of her sleeping husband. “You could cry for help,” he said, head tilting to one side. “You could leave him to my mercy and save yourself.” He lifted one hand, reaching toward her face and she shrank back. “And yet you haven’t.” He cupped her jaw, traced her bottom lip with his thumb.

His hand was cold.

_Dead._

“Not quite,” he said with a small smile, as if there were some private joke only he understood. His grip changed and he pulled her up by the chin, grip an iron vise. Rey struggled, fingers scrabbling at his hand, but she genuinely believed he might either crush her throat or just pop her skull from atop her neck. He clucked his tongue at her. Disappointed, maybe? “Now, now, pet, none of that,” he practically purred at her as she scratched at his skin. “Give us a kiss.”

She shook her head, attempting to lean away despite his hold. He laughed again, louder this time, and it echoed in the darkened room. His free arm wrapped around her, jerking her forward, holding her against his body. A sound escaped her, something best described as a squeak, and she glanced at Ben. Surely all this movement and sound would wake him.

“He won’t wake. Not until I want him to.”

She looked back at him, knew her eyes were too wide, breath too fast. He had released his hold on her chin, adjusted his arms until it was more lover’s embrace than assailant’s restraining hold. He stroked one finger down the side of her face, over her neck, then farther, dipping below the neckline of her nightgown to trace her collar bones. She felt his lips against the shell of her ear as he leaned in and whispered, “I could fuck you on top of him and crush his head like a grape and he would never stir.”

She gasped, horrified at her lack of horror at the idea—the first part, anyway.

“Oh, you _do_ like that idea. Has our Benjamin been neglecting you, dear heart?”

She shook her head. _Of course not._ “My husband takes excellent care of me,” she hissed. “I want for nothing.”

“Liar,” he said, and then his mouth was on hers, lips and tongue coaxing, _demanding_ a response. Rey felt a stirring, something pressing urgently against her and tore away from his lips with a gasp, staring down in a kind of fascinated horror. “Oh, he _has_ been remiss in his duties, hasn’t he pet?” His hand found the curve of one breast and Rey’s eyes fluttered, biting her lip to hold back a cry as the caress turned rough and bruising. He repeated the action and she fairly collapsed against him with a desperate sob.

“Wake up, Benjamin,” he said harshly, one hand on the back of her head as the other came to rest on her hip, not a breath of space between them as her husband gasped behind her, scrambling up in the bed.

“ _Kylo.”_

Her husband’s voice was low, frightened, but also filled with a kind of want and longing she had believed he only felt for _her._

“I told you, Benjamin, I told you I would come for you—both of you—that you are _mine._ ”

“Please, not Rey, don’t hurt her, Kylo. I beg you.”

Rey felt the curl of Kylo’s lips against her forehead. He was smiling when he said, “Am I hurting you, dear heart? Are you injured, pet?” She shook her head, face buried in his shirt. “He can’t hear you, little one. Go on now, speak up. Tell your husband the truth. Tell him how he’s neglected his _duty_ toward you, how the slightest touch of my hand makes your body weep for more.” She started to speak, to venture a shaky and likely unconvincing ‘no,’ but Kylo gripped her breast roughly again and she cried out, her denial cut off in a sound of throaty pleasure. “Do you hear that, Benjamin?”

A sob of shame and remorse worked its way from Rey’s throat, even as her traitorous body leaned into Kylo, seeking _more._ His hand snaked into her hair, jerking her head back and exposing the long line of her neck. He tilted her, turned them both so that they were in profile as he dragged his tongue from the hollow of her throat up her neck to nip at her chin, never taking that burning gaze off of Ben.

Rey panted for breath, trembling as the grip on her hair tightened, sending pinpricks of pleasure-pain skittering down her spine. She didn’t resist when Kylo turned her the rest of the way, resituating them both until he was kneeling on the bed with her leaning back against him, both facing Ben.

She couldn’t read his expression. The look on her husband’s face was one she had never seen before, wouldn’t have recognized if she _had_. He was almost _feral,_ and she wasn’t sure if she was seeing rage or desperation or something else entirely.

Then he moved, and the question was answered as he kissed her roughly, closing any space between them and trapping her between his body and Kylo’s, both of them seemingly happy to be there, unbothered by the close proximity to one another.

Something connected in her mind, the strange sense of shame and reluctance to tell her about what had caused his illness, what shock had greyed his hair.

Had he?

Had _they_?

_Yes._

“The women are gone,” Kylo hissed, leaning over Rey’s shoulder. “What they did to you…I never…I wouldn’t have ever allowed them to harm you,” he said. “They lied, I never gave you to them,” he finished, and Rey was confused but Ben was not, and something inside her that had been coiled tight since she sat by his bedside at the convent, eased at the shocked relief on his face.

Then it was Rey’s turn to be shocked when Kylo kissed Ben and Ben _allowed_ it, kissing him back with a fervor she hadn’t seen since before he left for Eastern Europe.

She struggled between them, unsure whether she was trying to distance herself or get closer. It didn’t matter anyway—they were holding her too tightly between them. They separated and Ben drew back, glassy-eyed and with a spot of blood on his lip. She reached up to brush it away, only for another droplet to bead up in its place. Kylo grabbed her hand, licking the drop of blood from her thumb. “Have we shocked you, dear heart? Will you flee in horror and disgust now?” She shivered as his cool breath trailed over her neck, relaxed into his hold as she reached for Ben, tugging him down for the kind of kiss he’d never been able to bring himself to give her.

They took the action as answer enough, and Rey was thrown from a place of semi-rational thought to raw sensation.

Hands. There were hands on her body, on her hip and her thigh and both breasts, and she thought she might burst into flames or collapse in a puddle at any moment.

Lips trailed over her neck— _Ben_.

A shiver of cool air on her skin as her nightgown rose up her thighs, trailed over her hips and belly, bared her breasts, before Ben moved back just enough for Kylo to pull it the rest of the way up and off. He tossed it away, and she neither knew nor cared where it landed as hands and lips roamed, exploring every newly revealed patch of skin.

She got Ben’s nightshirt off first, and then the two of them tugged at Kylo’s shirt.

When Rey bit lightly at Kylo’s neck he groaned. She bit harder and he trembled for her and she smiled against his skin.

In return, he dragged razor-sharp canines lightly over her shoulders, her belly, her thighs, and she whimpered and reached for him when he stopped, tilting her head back in a silent plea.

“All in good time, pet,” he said softly. “If you wish it, we shall have an eternity.”

“ _Please._ ”

Rey knew the word had passed her lips, but she heard it in Ben’s voice, and then there were no more words for a very long time.

Rey woke to sunlight streaming in the open window, curled in her husband’s arms as the maid shuffled in quietly to build up the fire. She should have done that before sunrise.

Of course, before sunrise the poor girl would have had quite a shock.

As the door clicked shut, she felt Ben stir beside her and she turned to him, beaming at his shy smile.

“So, no more secrets,” he said.

“No more secrets.”

She tucked her head beneath his chin, contentedly listening to the steady thud of his heart.

“Will it still beat, after?” she asked, curious but unafraid.

“I don’t think so.” She sighed, pressed her ear more tightly against him. “You don’t have to do this. We can say no. I don’t think he would force it.”

She traced a thumb over the wounds on his throat, the two small marks where fangs had pierced once they convinced Kylo to feed. Rey had a set of her own, well two if the ones on her inner thigh counted.

“And sentence him to the rest of eternity alone? Or worse, make him have to watch us grow old and die while he remains the same, and then be alone after anyway?” She shook her head. “No. I can’t do that to him.”

“Rey, sweetheart, you only met him last night. What if you aren’t thinking clearly?”

“I can’t explain it Ben, but I think…it’s like he’s a part we’ve both been missing. He’s been waiting all this time, for us, and it’s the one chance we all have to be whole.” He shook his head, pressed a kiss to her brow as she settled in against him. “Besides,” she added, “I’ve already decided who I’ll eat first. Mr. Plutt will never see it coming.”

He laughed and called her absurd before kissing her again.

They never left their room that day, despite discussing several times what they might like to do in the sunlight one last time. When the maid pressed her ear to the door the next morning and heard only silence, she crept in to light the fire and woke the whole house with her screams.

The bedding and their nightclothes were all that remained, splashed with crimson and shredded to rags. When the strange wasting illness swept through the city, bringing misery on the likes of Snoke and Palpatine and Plutt, no one listened to the Duke’s mad ravings about undead creatures stalking the night. There were no deaths, and when he ranted about how he had opened the Connix family tomb and driven a stake through Kaydel’s heart, he was locked away in an asylum, leaving his nephew and Rey to depart the city in peace for a new home.

A dusty castle in Eastern Europe wasn’t so bad, after all. Not for three vampires in love. Even if it was all vampire mind tricks (and it _probably_ wasn’t, Rey thought, right?), they didn’t really care.

**Author's Note:**

> Wolfman next? Mummy? Creature from the Black Lagoon? I'm not sure yet but I have a [ 75 track playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/04kCYPEWoFs0LlJJ27YJoq?si=jdc8AJnQSRCkuDAHc_mo8w) now so...


End file.
